


dangerous deals

by SafelyCapricious



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Sidhe, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 00:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6681271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma doesn't believe in fairy tales, and she certainly doesn't believe in being whisked away into a fairy mound. At least, not at first.</p><p>AU smut ridiculousness. There will be three chapters, each with a different Jemma pairing and each building on the history of the last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. eat (jemma/bucky)

**Author's Note:**

> This is based, loosely, on the post going around tumblr debating if "eating come" would count as "eating food" in the fairy world (and thus get you stuck there), with the resolving argument being that by making them come you're doing them a favor and thus they would owe you. 
> 
> (Blame JD for this ridiculousness. Which makes the fact that she doesn't even ship the first pairing even more ridiculous. You're ridiculous JD. I love you.)

Jemma curses herself as she stumbles over another branch in the hazy twilight.

The villagers had warned her and the rest of the research team about being out after dark. But they were a SHIELD research team sent to examine the remains of an old HYDRA transport that had recently been uncovered and the stories had been full of magic and superstition. So when they’d warned not to venture after dark she’d rolled her eyes and not considered that there were, often, very good reasons for superstitions.

She didn’t believe in fairy courts that would steal her away, obviously, but the sun had set and now she could see how different it all looked without the light of the sun, how easy it could be to get lost.

They’d found more mechanical devices than biological and so she’d gone to find some plants in the wood so that her being here wasn’t a complete waste of time and she’d lost track of time.

And now she’s lost.

She curses again as she scrapes her hand against the bark of a tree as she catches herself from falling. She tries to examine the extent of the damage in what little light there is but can’t tell much. She tucks it close and looks up.

She can see light through the trees now.

It’s clear white light – so she must have gotten turned around and stumbled back to the evacuation site somehow as the lights in the village are a more subdued yellow.

She pushes her way into the clearing and stops abruptly.

It’s not the evacuation site.

It’s a simple clearing and there’s no light source that she can see – although every attempt to examine the perimeter for such a source fails as her eyes are dragged back to what’s in the center of the clearing.

There’s a tree – sturdy and strong – and a man leaning against it.

Maybe not a man.

His left arm looks like it’s made entirely of glittering ice and crystals and he is – he’s maybe glowing a little? He has a strong jaw and sharp blue eyes and hair to his shoulders that she wants to tangle her fingers in and – he’s perfectly symmetrical except for his arm and where his erect penis curves a little to the left.

He’s also completely nude.

Somehow the lack of symmetry in his arm makes all the rest more stark, even though , biologically, it should be less appealing.

He’s gorgeous.

It takes her far longer than it should to see the rose vine wrapped around his ankle with the thorns digging in and –

“Oh!” she exclaims, stepping forward as she pulls her pruning shears from her side pack and kneeling to get a closer look at where he’s caught. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s fine,” he says, his brows lowered and his expression dark with some emotion she can’t name.

“It’s clearly not,” she says, as she reaches out to try to pry one of the thorns from his flesh, and it comes out easily enough but another grows and pierces him as she does it and – she stops, horrified.

“It’s fine,” he says, and this time his voice is warm with something and then he’s crouching down and she can see how the vine grows unnaturally fast to allow the movement and then the bulk of his body blocks her view and his hand is cupping her cheek.

“You’re bleeding, and hurt, it’s not fine,” she repeats, but her gaze is captured again and she finds her fingers reaching out to trace over the round curve of his ear. For some reason that she can’t remember right now she thinks it should be pointed, but it’s the same shape as her own.

“It’s fine,” he repeats for a third time and she frowns at him, her attention drawn away from the perfect curve of his ear and his cheek as she meets his blue gaze.

She’s not sure what she’s going to say, but before she can voice any of it – it’s not fine – he traps the words in her mouth by leaning forward and kissing her.

Heat travels from her lips to her toes, hitting every location in between and her pruning shears drop from nerveless fingers when he tangles a hand in her hair. His kisses are intent as he guides her back and the ground is soft and surprisingly giving under her back while he moves over her. His left hand feels cool and his right hot as his fingers make quick work of her clothes and she should object but every brush of his fingers pushes her closer to the edge and then she’s naked and this all feels inevitable.

He starts to move down her body and it takes her scrambled brain a moment to catch up – she’d only had one boyfriend who had ever gone down on her and he’d complained about it for days afterward (which was about how much longer the relationship had lasted). So she laughs and tangles her fingers in his hair like she’d been wanting to and says, "It’s like you want to ruin men for me!" as he lays kisses over the curve of her hip.

And then he stops.

She’s so close and he just _stops_.

She leans up on her elbows so she can meet his eyes and he looks devastated, there’s a deep furrow between his brows and his eyes are closed and his face scrunched up. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

His eyes fly open and he grins, sharp and sudden. “I’m ordered to seduce mortals over to the courts and if I can make them come more times than they make me come they owe me and thus I’m able to hand them over.”

She blinks and stares at him. He’s not touching her anywhere else except for where the fingertips of his left hand rest lightly against her hip. She wets her lips and asks, voice shaky as she (still unconvinced but there was the thorns in his flesh that it’s occurring to her is not natural) contemplates what this means. “But, if I were to get you off without – without _you_ getting me off you would owe me a favor?”

He nods, just the smallest movement and she nods back and then sits up and pushes him back. He’s so much bigger than her, but he moves easily and she rests against his chest, kissing him again to thank him because even if she doesn’t, entirely, believe there’s something about the light and the blood and the arm that urges her not to question too much right then.

It’s her turn to kiss her way down his body now, and she takes her time. There’s a flavor to his skin, or a smell that reminds her of spring, even though it’s the middle of October, and she chases it with licks and kisses and bites as his hands dig into the soft moss as he writhes.

She’s always liked giving oral sex. There’s something very pleasing about the weight of a cock against her tongue and watching her partner lose control has always been gratifying to her. Which isn’t to say it’s something she wants to do all the time – and she’d certainly had significant others who she didn’t like giving it to because they couldn’t stay still and she always ended up choking and –

Jemma gives a few tentative kitten licks to where precome is beading – the taste of spring is even stronger here – and though she can see a muscle jump in his leg he doesn’t move, except to dig his fingers further into the dirt at his sides and –

She wraps her mouth around just the head of him, one hand circling the rest of him as her other hand goes to toy with his balls. He’s making noises, now, and she varies the pressure of her mouth and the wet lap of her tongue until those noises are soft pleas – and then she swallows him down as far as she can.

She rests one hand against his stomach, just as a reminder, and she can feel his muscles as they tense and jerk but his hips remain still and she sets to it with pleasure. He’s firm and hot in her mouth.

His eyes are already fixed on her, blazing blue fire, when she looks up and meets them and then his neck is arching and he’s panting as she twists her fingers around the base of him. Now that she’s sure he’s not going to thrust she moves her hand from his stomach and down her own body.

She’s sad she won’t get to feel him – the ice arm was only slightly cooler than the flesh one but she can’t help but want to know what it would feel like inside of her – but this is still good.

Still very good.

She’s still close from earlier, and the look in his eyes as she backs off and uses her hand and tongue at the sensitive head of his cock combined with her fingers is enough to have her coming in moments. She rests her cheek against his thigh as she catches her breath, pressing kisses to the side of his penis before taking him in again in one deep pull. This time she uses her hand at the base of his cock to twist just so and her hand, wet with her own come, to tease his balls and then he’s coming.

It tastes like springtime and because it does she swallows as he comes – and hopes she hasn’t made a huge mistake as she feels it light a trail of warmth down her throat and into her stomach.

He pulls her up into his arms before she can worry though, and he kisses her with an intent that has heat pooling low in her belly. She can already feel him growing hard against her leg but – well, he can make her come as long as she makes him come more times, right?

She wraps her hand around him and smiles into the kiss as the fingers of his left hand trace down her body and find where she’s wet and throbbing.

What feels like days later, but must only be hours as the forest still looks dark outside their clearing, she’s given him two more orgasms than he’s given her and he dresses her with soft touches and tender kisses.

“I want none of my team to go missing while we’re here on this trip,” she says as she distracts him from doing up the buttons on her shirt with biting kisses to his jaw.

He voices his agreement against the soft skin of her neck and she laughs as his scruff tickles.

“I want to be able to find my way home from this clearing,” she adds, after considering the fairy tales her mother used to tell to her when she was just a babe.

His smile is bright and he presses a quick kiss to her mouth as he straightens her collar that tells her she’s right in asking for that. “Yes.”

“And,” she says, after getting lost in kissing him for a few moments, “I will hold your last payment to me for later.”

He softens his kiss and she can see slight sadness in his eyes, but then he’s kissing her again and she has to pull herself away least she get more distracted.

It’s hard to leave him there, and she keeps turning to glance at him as she makes her way to the edge of the clearing and steps out.

The sunshine is bright through the trees and after she’s blinked it from her eyes she looks back and the clearing is gone, nothing but more trees but – she knows exactly where she is and with only one final glance back (and a blown kiss because maybe he can see her while she can’t see him) she heads towards where her team has probably not even noticed that she’s missing.

It’s unlikely she’ll ever experience something like that again. She still believes that the magic must just be a kind of science they haven’t fully discovered yet, but it was magical and she can’t help but be slightly sad that she’ll likely never get to use her last wish.


	2. drink (jemma/grant)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma thinks she's done with the fey, but they aren't done with her.
> 
> Jemma/Grant smut.

Jemma notices the discrepancies much sooner this time, although it’s been more than a few years since her first – and only – encounter. The light is coming from the wrong direction as she steps around a tree and she feels lost even though her feet are firmly planted on the path and –

She calls out to Trip who was right behind her and he doesn’t respond and so she knows.

Her blood, after the last encounter, hadn’t showed anything unusual but her hormones had been all over the place – which knowing about doesn’t do her much good since it’s not like she can block pheromones from affecting her. Or, well, she can but she didn’t bring any of that equipment with her.

So she hesitates, looking over her shoulder, but there’s no sign of Trip or any of the others – they were dispatched to look into a string of disappearances and she and Trip were walking to one of the isolated houses in the wood while Skye and Coulson took another and May and Fitz the last. There’s no sign of him and so she, after another moment of hesitation, turns forward and walks down the path to whatever it is.

She hopes it’s James – that’s what she decided to start calling her mysterious lover after she decided he looked vaguely like Captain America’s old partner (Coulson had sent her to cleaning memorabilia after the prank war on the Bus got slightly out of control and she’d accidentally covered him in glitter).

The path ends abruptly and she takes a deep breath, not sure what to expect, before stepping into the clearing.

This one is exactly like the other – and yet totally different.

The sun is shining brightly in the forest at her back, but she can see the moon and countless stars in the sky (more stars than there should be given the sheer size of the nearby city). She’s stepped out of spring, this time, and into winter. Or, kind of winter. The air is still warm but the grass is white with hoarfrost and glitters under the moonlight.

There’s also no one in this clearing. No one but her and the rapid beat of her heart – she’s not scared, there’s nothing to be scared _of_ , and yet her heart won’t slow.

She refuses to be cowed, however, especially by an empty clearing and a tree and so she walks forward. The tree is warm to the touch and the frost on its bark melts against her fingertips as she circles it. Her eyes are on the edge of the clearing – where it looks like the night dark forest extends for miles, which she knows cannot be true – and so she almost doesn’t notice him until she’s upon him.

She stops abruptly and stares, the marks on the tree tell her he’s where she started but he wasn’t there and – her attention is captured by him and she cannot finish the thought.

It’s not James.

This man is taller, a little more slender and _beautiful_.

She’s not sure if the memory of James has faded or muted – maybe he was as ethereally beautiful as this man is, but she doesn’t think so.

He’s leaning against the tree, relaxed, and she takes a moment to study his profile before he turns his eyes and meets her eyes. His ears come to delicate points and she reaches out to touch one without thought and the neutral expression he’s wearing breaks as his grin turns wicked and then she’s backed against the tree.

“Oh, you are going to be _delightful_ aren’t you?” he asks as he pins her with proximity, although they aren’t touching anywhere except for where her curious fingertips are tracing over the point of his ear, fascinated.

“What are you?” she asks as she finally drags her attention from his ear to meet his gaze and she realizes that his teeth look sharper than they should but not actually sharp and though his eyes are brown there’s something about them that reminds her of a tiger and – his dark hair is neat on his head and he’s clean-shaven in a way that makes his cheekbones look like they might actually cut her if she’s not careful.

If she thought his grin was wicked before it’s nothing compared to the look he gives her now, and she’s suddenly grateful for the tree at her back and even though she knows it must be pheromones she still feels white hot want coil in her gut as he leans even closer and purrs, “I’m the one who’s going to make you come until you can’t remember your name.”

“Oh, shit,” she manages to say, wide eyes and she expects him to kiss her but he doesn’t. He leans close and brushes his own fingers over the curve of her ear and down her cheek and to her neck until he’s resting a palm flat over her heart.

“What’s your name?” he asks, head tilted as his other hand coils a strand of her hair around his finger over and over.

“Why?” Her voice is sharp and she tries to pull back but can’t between him and the tree.

He laughs. “So I know what to call you when you drag my own orgasm out of me.”

She bites her lower lip as his fingers tap against her chest in time with her heart – which has finally started to slow. “You can call me…Jem,” she decides. “What can I call you?”

He grins, tilting his head the other way and unravels her hair only to move his hand to tangle further into it and tilt her head back. “You can call me, Grant…Jem.”

There’s another rush of heat and she finds herself clenching around nothing but something should be there – he should be there – and god – the frost against her back feels cool but she’s burning up and when he leans closer so tries to close the distance for a kiss but instead he holds her back, fingers in her hair and face so close to hers she can feel his breath in her open mouth but he doesn’t move until she’s desperate.

And then he kisses her.

She loses time, or maybe he does just move faster than anyone should be able to and then she’s as naked as he is and he’s lifting her up against the tree and sliding home.

His fingers in her hair are the only thing that keep her from knocking against the tree as she’s filled with him and then he’s moving and part of her wants to just hang on for the ride but she remembers what the other one said and she knows she can give as good as she’s getting and so she clenches down suddenly and is rewarded when his smooth thrust stutters and he gasps and braces his other hand against the tree.

He regains control quickly and then it’s war – him fucking into her at just the right angle to distract her and her trying to drag his orgasm out of him by tightening when he’s least expecting it and – she does come first, but he comes mere seconds later and so she refuses to consider it a loss. He’s clearly not going to let her win the way the other one was – which is fine, she’s sure she can make this a tie. That’s all she really needs to do anyways, after all, to not owe him.

He collapses against her, pinning her between the tree and he’s still in her and holding her up and it should be uncomfortable but it’s not. Despite the almost violence in some of his thrusts, the bark has remained smooth and cool against her back without a splinter to be had, and he does move one hand to her knee to help support her legs around his waist as he catches his breath.

“Oh,” he says, mouth open and wet against her throat once he’s caught his breath as she continues to pant, “this is going to be fun.”

And then he’s dropping to the ground and he gets his mouth on her cunt for one heart stopping moment before she manages to push him away because while she wants it – fuck she wants to cut her thighs on those cheekbones – she can’t let him win that easily.

She manages to wrap her lips around his cock then, before he objects, and it’s interesting to taste herself so strongly there and – what follows is dirty and fast and ends with her face down in the cool earth as he plows into her – but this time he comes first and then he’s pulling out before she has a chance to come (and she was so close) and he’s tilting her hips up and eating her out like she’s going to deny him again.

Jemma comes embarrassingly quickly with his tongue in her cunt and her fingers buried in the earth as she sobs her relief into the warm air.

Only he doesn’t stop and by the time she manages to get control of herself enough to pull away she’s embarrassingly close.

He goes easily, smugly, chin and mouth wet with her as she pushes him supine and she kisses him because she can’t not. She wraps her hand around his cock as she chases her own taste in his mouth and when she thinks he’s close she pulls back and shifts, straddling his face as she leans down to take his cock as deep as she can.

She sucks him off twice, swallowing down ice and snow and warm winter fires before her jaw is too sore and when he gets her off the third time she uses her hand and she watches how his come falls and turns into snow on the ground.

He moves them, this time, picking her up easily and sitting up before pulling her into his lap and she really should be concerned about how his cock hasn’t gone soft for more than in instant and how much she wants him inside her but then he’s guiding her down and she doesn’t have time to worry about anything but making him come first for a very long time.

In the end, they’re even – she’s not entirely sure what the count is and she’s deeply sure it shouldn’t be physically possible – but they’re even and that’s all that matters.

She’s exhausted but he seems equally tired, though when she shifts in his arms, rubbing her sensitive breasts against his chest she can feel his cock give a valiant twitch against her thigh, but it stays down.

She closes her eyes, just for an instant and lets herself relax.

“Can I keep you?” he mumbles into her hair as she tries to motivate herself to get up and move. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s that she’s sure they’re tied, or maybe it’s just how tender he sounds and how soothing his hand tracing designs against the small of her back is, but she hums her acquiescence into his chest sleepily as she drifts off to sleep.

She wakes up, still in his arms, but in a room that’s covered in ice and furs and –

Oh shit, she thinks as she pushes herself to sit up and meets his very pleased gaze, she’s made a mistake.


	3. and be merry (jemma/brock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brock stumbles across summer in a clearing in an autumn forest -- too bad no one ever warned him about fairies. 
> 
> Jemma/Brock Smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final installment in this! I hope you all enjoyed this ridiculousness. This has only been lightly edited, so feel free to tell me if I fucked up pronouns anywhere or something else. <3 <3 <3

The compass isn’t working. 

Brock scowls at it and shakes it before hitting it against a tree but still the needle spins wildly and refuses to settle.

It’s been seven months since Fury found a HYDRA cell within SHIELD – he eliminated that one and a few more and though word is that they think they got them all it’s still been hard as hell to do his other work since then. Where before Brock could just get his “extra” assignments from a SHIELD base, now it’s all cloak and dagger bullshit – and Rollins has given him the wrong coordinates once and now a busted compass.

He might just kill him.

The underbrush is thick and despite the cool fall weather he’s sweating by the time he’s made it a hundred feet back the way he came – he’s not going to just keep wandering around in this stupid forest.

He stops to see if he can spot the marks he must’ve left coming through the first time but there’s nothing – and then he hears water.

There’d been no streams or bodies of water that he’d crossed, but if he’s lucky he can follow it back to civilization – at least the underbrush won’t be as thick there if nothing else. He’s been trained in every terrain imaginable, but he fucking hates forests. Give him a desert any day.

There’s more sunlight between the trees so he’s not surprised when he steps through the last of them and into a clearing. He is surprised about how clear it actually is – covered in lush green grass with a fairly small mossy pool of clear water in the center, with a woman reclining in it. Although he can only see her profile there’s something familiar about her.

Her head is tipped back against the grass, eyes closed, and she’s up to her neck in the water but her hair is draped half over her face but – she’s wildly familiar.

The air is thick with heat and none of the trees are anything but green – even the air smells different. It’s like the clearing hasn’t gotten the memo about it being fall.

He considers just backing away and leaving her in peace, but then he remembers where he’s seen her face.

A little over a year ago that scientific SHIELD prodigy went missing – Coulson had raised hell to try to find her and every specialist had been given her picture. Simmons, that was her name, that’s who she looks like.

He’d just assumed she’d died but – he takes a step forward and shit, it really looks like her. “Simmons?” he asks, because the more he looks the more she looks like her and the more he’s convinced it _is_ her. Wouldn’t that be a coup, to manage to convince SHIELD he’s absolutely loyal by finding Coulson’s pet scientist.

She opens her eyes and turns her head. When she laughs it sounds like bells and he finds himself taking another step closer.

“Not anymore,” she says, and then she shifts around the pool, moving to the side nearest him and resting her crossed arms on the edge and watching him. Her hair swirls around her and she grins, sharp and sudden. “You can call me Jemma, though. Would you like to join me? You look hot. The water is cool and I have some refreshments.” She waves a hand and he realizes there is a small tray holding a jug and cups and what looks like snacks.

And he is hot. The air in the clearing is thick with humidity and he’s dressed for fall.

He glances around again but once he’s sure this isn’t possibly an ambush or trap he steps forward and strips off his shirt and tactical vest.

She doesn’t hide her appraisal or approval as he crouches down by the pool – he’s intending to untie his shoes but he realizes how thirsty he is and reaches for the jug instead. The juice is a dark red and rich and sweet on his tongue and though it quenches his thirst it also makes him feel oddly restless.

This close to her he can see that she’s naked in the clear water – and though he can’t see more than her back and the distorted curve of her ass through the water just that takes him from half hard to full.

He swallows the entire cup as she tilts her head and reaches out to drag wet fingertips down his chest. Her hand curls around the waistband of his pants and she tugs lightly. “Why don’t you take these off and join me?”

He grabs a handful of nuts and crunches through them as he stands and strips – he suspects he’s going to need the energy and protein they provide if he’s reading the look in her eyes correctly.

The water is the perfect temperature as he slips in, coming up to his waist once he’s stepped to the center of the pool and then she’s pressing her wet flesh against his.

This close he can see that she shimmers, slightly, in the light – he’d think it was some makeup thing if it didn’t continue down to where she’d been submerged and – there’s something about her that reminds him of a statue or a painting, or something not real and before he can try to figure out what it is she goes up on her tip toes and tugs him down into a kiss.

Thoughts flee, at the touch of her mouth and he helps to lift her higher so she has a better angle. She’s mostly out of the water now, with her legs wrapped around his hips and he can feel the warmth of her where she’s pressed against his cock – so much warmer than the cool water around them – and then she’s using her hand and sinking down onto him and he’s tethered by holding her up and – “Oh, fuck,” he groans into her mouth as she uses the leverage he’s providing with his hands to rise up and sink down on him again.

She arches her back and braces her hands on his shoulders and continues to move and her hair is a waterfall down her back with her glittering eyes fixed on him and he sees for the first time that her ears are just slightly pointed. He’s sure she didn’t have those in the photo SHIELD passed around, and there’s something about it that’s tugging at his memory but before he can figure it out she’s changed her rhythm and his eyes fall shut involuntarily because he’s not going to fucking come before her and it’s going to take all of his concentration to manage that.

Her hips twist and she rises and falls and tightens around him and one of her hands leave his shoulder and when he opens his eyes he can see her hand tracing down her chest – tweaking a nipple and tugging – and to her cunt and then she’s playing with her own clit. He’s lucky she comes so soon after that because the sight of her fingers toying with herself as he watches his cock glide into her is enough to have him coming moments later.

She kisses him, lazily, as he comes back to himself. She’s still tight around him and he shouldn’t be capable of getting hard so soon – he’s not a kid, it takes more than a stiff breeze to get him going – but he can feel his blood already pulsing again and fuck.

Her nails run down the back of his neck and she searches out every one of his so far unknown erogenous zones until he is hard, but she doesn’t start to ride him again. Instead she pulls back and smiles, teeth sharp and white, and he feels a spike of adrenaline before she tugs on his hair. “Put me on the edge of the pool, lover.” Her voice feels like a caress and he moves as she bids.

Because of the underwater ledge he can’t stay in her while he sets her down and he hisses when he leaves her heat but she just smirks and doesn’t release his shoulders and then she’s on the edge and is pulling him down to kneel on the ledge.

She has to lean down to kiss him. Her fingers move from his shoulders to his hair as she nips at his mouth, teasing and tasting without letting him deepen the kiss, and then she’s using her grip in his hair to tug him where she wants him.

He doesn’t mind, and teases her back, treating her breast like she did his mouth until she’s writhing and her fingernails are digging into his scalp and then he gives her more pressure for a moment before moving further down.

The height and angle that he’s at isn’t right for this and he has to move his knees back to the very edge of the ledge before it’s comfortable, but her fingers are gentle in his hair again as she pets him and the fondness in her expression makes the effort worth it.

She leans back on one hand into the grass and hooks her legs over his shoulders as he presses kisses into the inside of her thighs. She keeps one hand in his hair and tugs as he teases, avoiding her cunt until he feels her nails again. He only rubs his cheek lightly against her and she arches with the sensation and he hears her moan and then he actually licks into her.

He can taste himself there, and it’s not a taste he has any fondness for but there’s something about it being there and combined with her taste that he fucking loves and so he sets to eating her out in earnest – the hand not holding her down moving to his cock.

Her hand holding her up gives out and she falls back, arching and twisting and trying to fuck up into his mouth as her hand grips his hair and he gives her what she wants – tongue and teeth and fingers fucking into her. When she’s close enough that she’s starting to make little hiccupping gasps he pulls back and lightens up and she swears, violently, and then uses both hands to hold his face to her cunt and ride out her own pleasure and he lets her – his own hand working frantically on his cock as she comes over his face.

She goes boneless against him and he uses water to splash some of the mess off his face before crawling out of the pool and over her and she moves herself back so he can get enough leverage to slide home. She sighs like the wind through trees and arches her neck and he takes that invitation and bites marks there – so that when this is over she’ll have to remember him – as he starts to move.

He doesn’t want to leave her heat so he only allows himself half thrusts, gentle little things that are more about keeping himself on the edge rather than chasing his own orgasm and she hums and stretches and kisses him gently once he’s done marking her and says, “God, you’re perfect,” and then he shifts angles and she makes a pleased little sound and adds, “yeah, right there.”

Brock could stay, happily, inside her forever, he thinks as he continues to thrust lazily. She’s soft and warm and fucking incredible with her hair a halo on the grass around her and her fingertips dancing over his skin and her little noises of pleasure. He leans down to kiss her again, as gentle as anything.

She allows it to continue for what feels like an age before shifting her hips and digging her heels into his ass and demanding with a smile, “Harder,” and though part of him wants to resist – because harder will mean coming and leaving her – he can’t and so he starts to fuck her in earnest.

 The noises she makes are intoxicating and by the time she’s coming around him he feels drunk with them. He tries to drag another orgasm out of her but comes before he’s gotten her all the way there and has to use his hand on her clit while he softens inside of her.

 She’s the one who drags them back into the pool, after that, and settles in his lap after they’ve washed and feeds him from the tray of snacks and the delicious red juice that she drinks out of his mouth and she’s still glittering in the light. He doesn’t want to leave – he never wants to leave – but he should get her back to SHIELD and see if he can make his absence up to HYDRA.

But when he mentions that it’s time to go she just laughs and says, “Oh, lover, no. You’re not going anywhere.” And before he can protest she’s sinking down onto him again and he’s helpless to resist.

**Author's Note:**

> My writing tumblr can be found [here](http://capriciouswrites.tumblr.com/)! Come say hi!


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